


How it began...

by Kit_SummerIsle



Series: Prime Nights [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Sparks, Sticky, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 19:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Prime Nights universe - depicting how it all began between the brothers who became the rulers of Cybertron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How it began...

**Author's Note:**

> _“…Ratchet had his way of making him feel like a young, lowly archivist, caught with his much larger brother-lover and a rather embarrassing set of injuries that had the medic laugh out loud at them…”_
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> _This sentence from the first part of the Prime Nights series (All that is gold does not glitter) has long tickled my imagination. After reading a prompt from the kinkmeme (about embarrassing interface-related injuries) the tickling strengthened until I gave in to it and wrote this little fic as an extra for the Prime Nights universe. Like there, the mechs are a mixture of G1 and TF:P and the AU’s backstory contains elements from both too, along with my own ideas. The obvious difference being that Optimus here is just as dominant as Megatron… though at the time he is not yet a Prime, so he is definitely smaller. Also, they are brothers and it is normal for them to interface, so if incest is not your thing, don’t read it._

Megatron couldn’t wait for Orion to reach his majority and now that it was finally and officially passed he waited no time to visit his brother. For all the differences between them in stature as well as in temperament, he loved Orion as deeply as the smaller mech loved him. It has always been so, platonic of course while they were both younglings but the feeling only strengthened when their parents passed away and they were left alone with only an occasional well-meaning relative to look out for them. One such sponsored his admittance to the War Academy and the military and Megatron thrived there, finding his true calling and rising through the ranks faster than anyone has expected him. 

Orion was far more of the scholarly type and his way to the Archives required neither sponsor, nor any helper; he got in on merit alone and was praised by his superiors even though he was still a youngling before his majority and at his console he looked like it was the most natural thing in the world. Megatron smirked a little, remembering the first time he visited Orion there – the frightened scuttle and frantic whispering of the other archivists when his huge warframe strode among them was downright funny and well worth even Orion’s embarrassed chiding him for it. 

Just like in Orion’s apartment block, he mused, though here, most mech knew him by this time and only a few flinched at the sight of him. Megatron strode to the lifts, pointedly ignoring the stares and glances and squashed his frame into the small cabin. Orion had an apartment large enough for him too, but he couldn’t help the size of the lifts – and flying was forbidden in the residential quarters. Megatron scowled, but the journey up was fast enough not to get in a bad mood – he wanted, hoped and expected much more pleasant activities for this orn to be annoyed by a petty thing like a too-small lift.

“Megatron!”

Ahhh… he loved the adoring smile on Orion’s pretty faceplates and the joy radiating from his smaller frame. Even with his last growth-spurt he barely came up to Megatron’s chest and that secretly worried the larger mech – with the other warriors, he has sampled interfacing and knew that such a size difference could be anything from awkward to near impossible. And he definitely had come with such activities in processor and knew that Orion expected it too – their last few meetings made the mutual lust painfully obvious.

“Orion. Glad to see you, brother.”

Others called his manner gruff, but Orion never took it badly. He knew it was just his style and that his feelings, though not shown much, were there always there for him. 

“I had hoped you’d come this orn.” – and ohh, he nearly purred the words, making Megatron’s inner temperature just start to rise. At this rate they wouldn’t get a lot of celebration… before the main event started. 

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Orion.”

“My co-workers threw together a coming-of-age party last orn” – Orion chatted as they sat at the relatively tiny living room and Megatron lifted a brow. Surely none of them dared to try and court his brother…? He made sure during his visits there who the young archivist belonged to. – “Even Alpha Trion looked the other way when the high-grade made its appearance and we got a bit loud.”

Megatron knew how serious that was – the Archives staff took silence to a near religious level and they usually threw him disapproving glances for just the way his larger engine growled. He presented his own bottle of fine high grade and Orion’s favourite treats and the small table between them was soon full with cubes and bowls, the everpresent heaps of datapads now pushed aside. 

“Has he, now? Just how… naughty did you lot get?”

Orion laughed and sampled a treat, Megatron nearly groaning at the sensuous display of the small, crystal-dusted sphere disappearing between full lips, sucked slowly in, Orion’s optics twinkling playfully… slag, the little glitch knew perfectly well what he was doing…

“Nothing that you wouldn’t approve.” – he laughed and Megatron felt disappointed at the treat’s disappearance – “One of them offered to escort me back here afterwards, but I refused him – and no, I won’t tell you who it was, I want them all to remain alive and he hasn’t done anything improper.“

Megatron growled again, this time in not even hidden jealousy, but he knew that Orion was perfectly capable of defending himself had the need arose – though he had a civilian frame, he was larger than average and Megatron taught him some necessary self-defense techniques as soon as he saw just how beautiful a mech his brother was growing to be. Iacon was not all that dangerous, but unsavoury mechs lurked in every city and Megatron wholesparkedly believed in being prepared. 

“Anyhow… congratulations, brother, you are now a full-grown mech.”

He raised his cube to a toast and Orion happily clinked his own to Megatron’s, smile ever widening as their optics locked and they silently drank the high-grade. For Megatron, it was barely registering in his systems, but Orion’s smaller engine hiccupped as it went down and his optics brightened considerably. Megatron had to actively restrain himself not to jump him there and then…

“Thank you!” 

And then Megatron’s self-restraint was blown to the winds, because Orion leaned forward with optics wide, shining and… _hungry?_... and two small, blue servos grabbed his shoulder pauldrons, hot air blasting from his vents blowing over him.

“O-orion…?”

“Great.” – he heard a purring, deepening voice say much closer than before, causing his vents to roar to life – “I’ve been waiting for this for far… far too long.”

Megatron so far has held himself back for not wanting to frighten Orion, or pressure him – but apparently his efforts were in vain, as Orion appeared to be neither frightened, nor pressured – in fact he looked all aroused and eager and Megatron decided that since it was what they both wanted very much, he should not dawdle any more. He let himself drawn up by those smaller servos and carefully pushed the table with its contents to the side – there really wasn’t enough space in here, he thought frustrated, he’d have to be really careful moving – but he wasn’t even the end of his thoughts, when the servos impatiently pulled his helm down and those lips he used to daydream about crashed into his hungrily.

Optimus was an avid kisser, albeit an inexperienced one and Megatron took control of their denta clashing, to subtly show him how it was done properly. Soon he was whimpering as Megatron’s glossa mapped out his oral cavity and those small servos roamed over his shoulders, arms and back, finding impossibly small seams and delving in there to pluck and pull on wires. There was something to be said about smaller lovers, Megatron thought dazedly – he was far more aroused than he usually got from just kissing. Warframe claws and large digits just couldn’t get close to what Orion was doing to his back and sides. 

He tasted high-grade on Orion’s glossa and the sweet tang of the treat and swallowed desperate moans and whimpers from his clinging brother. His own servos stroked the other’s back, one coming up to cup the blue helm and carefully fondle the antenna there. The servos on his back started tugging him and Megatron obeyed, following Orion through the door, into the slightly larger berthroom, kissing him all the while. Let him take the lead, that was the most useful advice he got when he discreetly asked around about being with a smaller partner and though it was definitely not his style, Megatron would do it for him. For Orion. 

He was pulled and tugged, then finally pushed onto the berth, Orion more or less falling on top of him, just barely more coherent than before, breaking their kiss in favour of venting heavily. He straddled the larger frame, servos moving on to sturdy silver chest-plates, lips glistening parted and marked by Megatron’s denta, optics a shining incredibly deep blue… and Megatron’s pelvic plate became hot and tight as he sat there, squirming oh-so-slightly so their plates touched just a little, but still sparking little bolts of arousal and the warrior groaned deeply, revving his engine in retaliation.

“Little tease… ahh!”

Slightly swollen lips parted in a brilliant smile and Orion laughed, deeply, sensuously, suddenly looking far more experienced than his usual innocent air. His pelvic plate ground down even more and Megatron felt the heat in him too…

“Not… uhhh…. teasing!”

“I certainly hope so…”

But he was just joking and Orion knew it and happily complied to the unsaid demand, cupping his spike panel with a servo that was like it was made for this, covering his panel like a second armour and infinitely more pleasurable... Megatron groaned and bucked up, the heat behind the panel nearly unbearable. He collected his wits enough to lift his own servos and grasp blue hips, trying to regain at least some control of the situation. It was hard with the way Orion was driving him mad, but he had to slow his overeager brother down before it got out of servo. 

Orion was certainly not dawdling. By the time Megatron came up for conscious thoughts, his servo wandered down from the spike panel to the valve one and that helped the larger mech to sober up a bit. It wasn’t… bad, not exactly, he loved Orion’s touches everywhere on his frame, but… but he was not a valve mech. No, definitely not one. In all his fantasies with his brother, he always imagined spiking him – hence his worry about size differences and the danger of injuries. 

Megatron bucked again and tried to drive the questing servos back to where he wanted them to, employing his own to fondle the blue aft, his larger palm easily cupping the whole, definitely hot plate, digits unashamedly inching towards the valve panel _he_ wanted to have a go at. For further initiative, he released his long-aching and uncomfortable spike that sprang out from the confines of his panel, hot and eager between their frames. He happily ground it to Orion’s front panel, smearing lubricant on him, servos drawing him closer, chasing the delicious friction…

…but Orion has gone stiff over him and his field fluctuated nervously, suddenly cooling his – and Megatron’s arousal somewhat. Megatron was sure he understood the reason for it – he was generously endowed and for the smaller mech his large, stiff spike must have looked daunting.

“It’s all right, Orion…” – he croaked, bringing his vocalizer under control – “We’ll go slow. There no reason to be…”

But Orion didn’t look appeased or calmed… in fact his blue optics sparkled with an opposite emotion that Megatron was surprised to identify as… anger? But why?

“I see you have already decided the roles… brother!”

Megatron stared stupidly up to his brother, processor trying to make sense of the words, arousal dying fast, even though there was still that delicious touch, the connection between them... Surely Orion didn’t think… he wouldn’t believe that… he wouldn’t expect _Megatron_ to… submit?

“B-but you… I mean…” – slag, how did one talk about things like that? – “I thought that you… you were happy to… be with me?”

“And I am!” – Megatron felt another spike beside his own, a smaller, blue shaft straining and rubbing to him, the feeling decidedly queer, despite of the undisputable hotness of it – “But how is it so that you decided to spike me?”

Megatron gawked. To be perfectly honest he never even thought of the opposite, it seemed to him that their personalities kind of… predestined their roles in an interface. He was dominant, larger, stronger and aggressive; whereas Orion was calm, accepting and accommodating, not to mention being smaller and civilian. Yes, he knew that Orion had a steel backstrut, a stubborn streak, though he rarely showed it – but still, this scenario came to him as an unpleasant and unwanted surprise.

“You know how problematic that would be, right?” – Orion waved towards his large, though starting to depressurizing spike – “While if I were to spike you, it would be perfectly fine for both of us!”

Megatron stared back to him scandalized.

“I’ve never… took it in the valve!”

Orion’s gaze didn’t waver, in fact it turned outright angry and a little hurt that cut into Megatron’s spark. He never wanted to cause that to appear in his little brother’s optics – but he did. He fought down a wave of guilt.

“Nor have I, Megatron.”

“B-but…”

In fact he was not sure what he could answer to that. He never dreamed that Orion would insist on spiking him, and for all his love, he just wasn’t ready to give his brother _that_. Too bad that apparently nor was Orion.

“Let’s just talk about it like sensible mechs, right?”

Give to the little glitch to appear smugly more adult than he and on the very orn he officially came to age.

“Okay… I had hoped to make your orn memorable, but if you wanna talk…?”

A strong rub on his equipment reminded Megatron that they were still very much bared and his smaller brother had the upper servo. The glitch knew it too, smugly perching on his thighs, apparently not all that concerned about their spikes occasionally touching. Megatron had to admit himself that those little contacts were sending strong jags of pleasure into his neural net, now that the strangeness has passed. His servos tightened on blue hips, just to remind Orion that he might be the one on his back, but that situation could change in any klik.

“Why are you against it? You never indicated a preference before.”

Orion’s helm bobbed to the side like when he was thinking, but his servos never stopped roaming Megatron’s frame. Not that he minded it. For a supposed novice - though he might just started to doubt that fact - Orion had talented servos, able to reach in literally everywhere. And Megatron’s arousal was slowly, but inexorably creeping back…

“In a way… I guess I’ve always known you’d want to be dominant. But… the fact is, every time I imagined us together – and I did that a lot - … so did I. I’ve always seen us with me on top.” – he fell silent for a klik – “I mean spiking. I’ve never gone around my valve when… self-servicing.” – he looked embarrassed spelling it out.

Megatron swallowed and thought hard. It was… unexpected to say at least. He had never for a klik imagined it in any other way than he spiking, whether be on top or not. It was acutely uncomfortable trying to imagine giving in to Orion’s expressed wish, much as he didn’t want to cause a disappointment to his brother, especially not now, on his special orn. 

“Are you… do you feel sure about it? Can you not…”

“No.”

One look was enough so Megatron saw his brother’s rarely seen stubborn side coming out. Servos became demanding, blunt tips screeching on silvery plating, long legs tightened imperceptibly on the two sides of his thighs and a hard glint appeared in those beautiful blue optics. Slag. He wasn’t going to change his processor, not this orn, not about this. And Megatron, for all his posturing would never harm his smaller brother. He would fight the issue with any of the other warriors naturally, since noone… _noone_ got a shot at his valve… but never with Orion. 

“Well then...”

The hopeful, disbelieving but eager look in Orion’s optics was almost worth the growled words. Megatron heaved his frame up again, making sure their equipment touched, caught the faint start of a blinding smile on Orion’s lips…

…and rolled them over effortlessly, pinning Orion with his larger frame. He kissed away any protest his brother might have wanted to voice and kept the smaller mech underneath him easily.

“Mmmmph…!”

Megatron smirked into the kiss and rolled a heavy throb of spark energy into the stiff frame under him. Orion’s optics widened and his struggle became a grab for leverage, his spark automatically returned the pulse. It was at least familiar ground, since their sparks strained towards each other as far as they remembered – and there was no domination and submission in it, not even implied. Megatron nipped his lips again and this time Orion returned the kiss with an eager abandon, his servos plucking at Megatron’s side. The lost arousal returned and this time there was no hesitation or stiffness in it. 

Megatron rubbed his frame on Orion’s in slow, gentle strokes, heavy, warrior grade armor carving silvery scratches into the bright red and blue under it. His spark fired pulse after pulse into him and Orion returned them all eagerly, his warm, happy throbs answering to his more forceful ones. Pleasure rose as the exchange became faster and faster, the sounds of discontent long gone from Orion, transforming into moans and whimpers. Megatron growled too, his deeper voice a perfect counterpoint to Orion’s pleasure. 

He felt his spike twitch too as the sensation grew – it was different from what he usually enjoyed, but it affected his whole frame the same way. Orion’s dim, hazy optics looked up to him in perfect bliss, his smaller frame buckling, but unable to move their combined weight – but he ground his spike into Megatron’s array and it was not disagreeable. No, not at all. He would rather prefer a tight, wet valve around it, but that was sadly not on the menu today. Still, he would take what he could… 

… and then thinking became hard because Orion was no slouch in the spark-pulse department either and Megatron moaned as his spark nearly fluttered under the onslaught of rapid-fire pulses. His arm became weak at the elbow joint, leaving him sagging lower, unconsciously wanting to get closer to Orion, closer to pleasure, closer to the mech he loved, had always loved and wanted to be his bonded… eventually, when Orion was comfortable with it as well. Some of that was apparently transmitted by their spark-pulses, because he perceived the returning yearning, the wordless acceptance and wanting, a _yes_ in all but words…

Pulses became heavy throbs and Orion’s voice reached higher notes than ever before, his buckling frame nearly throwing him off. Thoughts fled by this point, it was all pleasure and connection, togetherness and completion… and Megatron roared as his spark exploded with overload, shedding all the accumulated charge with a gloriously nearly painful pulse, his spike erupted in a jet of transfluid…and Orion’s spark and voice joined him for a perfect astrosecond of a white-hot blaze wiping out the world around them.

“Megs…!”

The next thing he consciously recognized was Orion frantically trying to push him off, away, down, anywhere… and Megatron blinked slowly, optics still recalibrating after the blast of the overload.

“Wha…?”

“Get OFF ME!”

Megatron slowly rose on slightly trembling arms, looking down questioningly, still trying to regain processor-power for a conscious thought. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had such a processor-blowing overload. 

“MEGATRON!” – Orion apparently could produce a roar of his own, a feat Megatron didn’t believe his brother’s vocalizer to be capable of – “IT FRAGGING HURTS!”

“What happened…?”

Okay, so he still wasn’t firing on all cylinders. But Megatron rose further until he could roll safely besides Orion, not really trusting his still trembling limbs to hold him up for any length of time. But the maneuver that he had done in many berths ended with less success this time – Orion’s berth simply wasn’t wide enough to accommodate them both. Megatron had a split astrosecond to mentally _‘ohslag’_ this fact before he fell gracelessly. And fall he did, onto some datapads he never knew how sharp and pointy they could be when crushed by a warrior frame landing on them.

The next sounds he made nearly matched Orion’s still writhing on the berth in his own misery. At least he fully onlined and realized that his world of hurt had not come from an enemy, but was his own doing and did not power up his weapons or lashed out instinctly. Instead, Megatron curled up and cursed all datapads to the deepest corner of the Pit, his servos hovering but not quite daring to touch his spike which sported several nasty looking shards of metal and glass imbedded into it, leaking energon in an alarming rate. 

Then Orion’s own whimpers and curses were drowned by his muffled, still pained laughter and Megatron looked up to see him curling over his spike as well, servos hovering over it in a near identical move… and Megatron’s own laugh guffawed out until they were both writhing in mirth and pain at… he wasn’t sure what, maybe on their identical hurt…?

“You… you… fell on it!” - Orion declared between two breathless laughs with a pained grimace – “And! You broke my datapads too!”

Megatron laughed some more but there was an edge to it. It was that or whimpering and he didn’t think his warrior image could withstand whimpers. 

It didn’t help any that the medic Orion called over joined them with a slightly cruel-sounding chuckle the second he was inside the door.


End file.
